


I Want You Back

by foreverinprinxietyhell



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Coping Mechanisms, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grieving, Heavy Alcohol Use, Lashing Out, M/M, Moving On, Pancreatic cancer, Public crying, Video Message, Wake Up Call, Wakes & Funerals, emotional breakdown, final words, suicidal ideations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 23:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverinprinxietyhell/pseuds/foreverinprinxietyhell





	I Want You Back

Cold white walls and the overwhelming aroma of antiseptic provided a false sense of security for those who came here with no hope of leaving in the same condition. Both British boys knew it was only a matter of time after the doctor diagnosed Dan with a terminal illness after weeks of weight loss, vomiting, and abdominal pains; no amount of praying or pretending could prevent the inevitable outcome.

Staying stationary by his fiance's side not unlike any other day hee watched in choked silence as the younger one struggled to get comfortable beneath thin blankets wishing it would help if he could crawl into the cot instead of make things worse. Fingers threaded between a thinner set that could easily be snapped by a sudden movement a thumb traced over the vibrant veins that mapped out years spent together anywhere else than a dimly lit hospital room, the wedding they had spent months planning after it had been announced that their friends Felix and Marzia were also engaged. Their life together was coming to an end and all the lying to himself about being ready could never be enough to prepare someone to say farewell.

“I can't live without you. Don't go, please?” Phil pleaded gently, tears blurring already declining vision.

“Can't hold on much longer, love, it hurts…”

“How am I supposed to continue without you?”

“You managed before we met,” Dan quipped with a weak chuckle that turned into a short-lived coughing fit, foreheads pressed together as sniffles echoed around them, “I love you, y’know?”

Mouth opened to answer the words were blown away in a harsh gust of wind when a steady rhythm of beeps flattened out into a morosely monotonous tone. Seemingly out of body he watched as a team of nurses swarmed around the lukewarm corpse knowing full well it was out of the realm of possibilities to bring the other back, raindrops turning into a storm upon ivory cheeks as the words 'time of death’ were announced with an ease that is sensitive stomach was not capable of handling.

“Mr. Lester?”

“Don't make me leave him yet, I don't want to. I-”

“Phillip, dear,” a motherly voice chimed in quietly as she placed a hand on a slumped shoulder, “Let them do their job, okay?”

“Mrs. Howell…”

“I'm just as upset, but fighting with the staff won't bring him back.”

Lost for words he fell back into the offered embrace unable to process that the team in front of them were talking about the same man whom he had fallen heels over head for all those years ago; double dimples became sinkholes on either side of his nose, purple half-circles etched permanently under dark brown eyes that were now mudcracks as light fractured from the pupils, pale skin faded into a grotesque yellow hue as his lanky body lost all semblance of how it had been when in full health; he really looked soulless I after years of claiming not to have one.

Choking back another outburst by forcing himself to focus on talking to the doctor about arrangements until Dan's body could be laid to rest, the weight of responsibility countered the emptiness left behind even though this would be the last event planned for his former husband-to-be. Shakily an enclosed envelope was taken in hand trying not to drop it when he was reminded about the task of registering the younger one as deceased, clamping down on his bottom lip to keep calm instead of shouting out a refusal, “That's all?”

“Yes sir, until the funeral is approved.”

“How long should that take?”

“Not long depending on when you submit the documents. There's no rush, of course, we can keep him here until a date is decided.”

Nodding numbly, icy blue eyes lingered on the cooling corpse before being escorted into the corridor. Heavy footsteps falling with a fading echo it took every ounce of strength not to turn around and bolt back to the broken body being prepared for burial, his heart non-existent now that they were parted by life’s final act, “He’ll be alright won't he?”

“Of course, sweetheart, they're not going to take him elsewhere,” Daniel’s mother mused as if trying to convince herself as well, “Would you like to spend the night? I'd hate for you to be alone right now.”

“You need time to grieve too.”

“I couldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you too.”

“I won't do anything reckless,” Phil remarked half-heartedly hoping he was convincing enough; he had consoled so many people, even his fiance, who had suffered from self harm that he had never considered it an option, but that still left other choices open, “If I break down I'll ring you, promise.”

“I'm holding you to that.”

That conversation seemed as if it happened months ago considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed to calm the swirling storm inside, choosing to camp on the couch rather than spend a solitary night in bed where his significant other would jit come to claim the empty spot to his right. Four days had bled together in a mindless blur as he tried keeping up a routine that no longer held any meaning when a slender palm pulled a cereal box from the cupboard, plastic crinkling as he dug out clusterss of cinnamon. Startling as usual at hearing a distinct noise coming around the corner reality slammed a solid fist into his stomach, an incisor clamping sharply into his tongue mid-chew though it could not do as much damage, “Old habits die hard, huh love?”

A hollow chuckle rang out around the painfully quiet flat until laughter turned bitter, his lungs on fire as silent sobs wracked against his ribs like a xylophone. Would life ever get any easier to live without the man who had woken him to feelings denied in favor of pleasing everyone else?

“Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, how could I not? I don't know what to do without you… it'd be better if the roles were reversed, but here I am barely managing. How am I going to face you for the last time today?” 

Barely able to finish cooling coffee that quickly lost his interest mismatched socks trudged upstairs to confront the conjoining bathroom now that he was fully aware of how greasy his hair had become. Scrubbing away at heated skin the fog settled in between the hollow spaces in his bones, shoulders sagging with extra weight combined with an ever-present exhaustion no matter how many hours he overslept.

Torn between wanting to get this over with and letting the moment last, numb fingers fumbled multiple times with the black buttons of a similarly colored pinstripe shirt remembering the constant amount of events where he had given peptalks to a grumbling Dan. Fondly he would remind the younger one of how handsome he looked, reminding him that it would only be a few hours before returning to the comfort of home, regular clothes, and an evening spent curled on the sofa ruining their spines; a long distance memory that would be tarnished by the one left behind returning to an even emptier apartment, heart just as vacant. 

Focus fading into a haze as he descended flights of stairs to meet the Howells the carpooled trip to the chapel seemed like a distant daydream, faux leather cushions replaced by velvet covered benches once safely inside.

“Should I even be here? None of these people know me.”

“Nonsense, Phillip, you're a part of this family as much as Dan. Besides, I'm sure some of your friends will come visit.”

About to ask further on how she could be so certain a familiar figure caught his eye from behind a group of middle-aged people, his darker complexion standing out just as his hair had when it was dyed red.

“Mark, you came all this way?”

“Of course I did,” he responded with a a somber smile, the blonde woman to his left paying her respects, “We planned on coming sooner, but looks like life had different plans.”

“You can say that again…”

“Don't get him started!” a livelier than average voice spoke up in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Seán, don't you think that's a little inappropriate?”

“He’s fine, Wiishu. Who would've thought my house plants would survive longer than him?”

“Considering you took better care of Danny boy?”

“Guess I'm not meant to keep anything alive for long,” Phil stated solemnly I with a slight shrug as another couple came over, “Probably shouldn't let me dogsit Edgar and Maya.”

“Don't say such things, you didn't cause his death…” 

“I wish we were visiting on a happier occasion,” Felix mentioned, ice blue eyes freezing the widower to the pew, “We were going to be at each other's weddings.” 

“At least you two get to be happy.”

“Just because he's no longer around doesn't mean you only have to remember the bad times.”

“Marzia’s right, he wouldn't want you to stop living.”

“I'll try to keep that in mind, thanks everyone. Would you mind sitting with us for the rest of the service?”

Setting aside their differences with pretend rivalries the first two pairs sat on either side while the betrothed settled directly behind the relatives just as others took to the podium to speak about Daniel. With little less than a squeak of surprise at an elbow gently jabbing between his ribcage the older man was immediately put on the spot; he had rehearsed some sort of speech, yet the words were stuck in the back of his throat as a pool of quicksand suddenly emerged.

“For those of you who don't know, I'm Phil. I was… A mentor to Dan when we first met after talking online then we became best friends, lovers even. We were set to marry early next year. And now…” 

He broke off, cheeks heated from the combination of speaking in front of strangers and recounting a story that had been told countless times previously. Clearing his throat as a coping mechanism learned from someone with a worse case of agoraphobia when he strayed toward the open casket, palm placed against a stone cold cheek as he leaned over to press a long peck into the middle of a smooth brow, “I'm not sure what should happen next. He didn't return my heart before going, so I'm lost more now than ever.”

“How rude of him, but I'm sure you did the same,” a Swedish accent stated softly, grunting slightly at the weight suddenly thrown at him while supporting the grieving man in every way possible, “He'd still want you to keep it, you were always the protective one.”

“He's so cold, Felix…”

“I’m sure he is, pal, and I'm sorry you have to see him like this.”

Sniffling against the broad chest in answer he was led outside while coffin was prepared to be carried toward the burial site. Gentle palm placed between shoulder blades he was led to the plot at his own pace only stopping when tears broke past the unstable dam he had barely built, “I guess this is the final act…”

“It'll never truly be over, ya know?”

“'Course not, there are so many things that remind me of him,” Phil replied, nervously twisting the silver band around his finger, “Won't ever be the same though.”

“Do you need someone to stay over tonight?”

“Actually, I'd prefer if someone did. Not really trusting myself to be alone for long.”

Dirt cascading on top of oaken slabs would forever haunt him, the scrapes of metal on earth and the occasional rock tearing into his soul to leave another wound from the whole ordeal. Night had fallen not long after they had all arrived at the apartment since a storm had been predicted until earlier that morning; Phil wasn't complaining about the company despite not having enough beds to spare, it was better than being left to fend for himself.

“I think we could use a drink. Mind if I look around the kitchen?”

“Make yourself at home. Our- I mean, my home is yours.”

“You built a life here together, so don't feel obligated to switch to past tense.”

“Especially so soon after the funeral,” another familiar voice spoke up, light green eyes and curly hair giving him away immediately, “Sorry I'm late.”

“PJ! I didn't expect you to be here, I thought you were busy?”

“So did I, but filming got called off early due to the rain.”

“Makes sense,” the host responded in a usually light tone as they shared in an embrace, “We're glad that you could make it.”

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” 

“Mark's just making cocktails.”

“Ah well, guess I showed up at the right time,” the newcomer gave with a soft chuckle before it faded from existence, “Seriously Phil, all of my condolences. I can't imagine-”

“Hey none of that now, we're celebrating Dan's life!”

“Always the loudmouth…”

“Fuck you too,” Jack retorted fondly before his features softened, “We hate seeing you so upset. Not that you aren't allowed to be, but we want you to be a little better 'fore we leave.”

Accepting the assistance in having his mood uplifted slightly he meandered over to a bar stool to watch through lifeless eyes as alcohol was mixed into various liquids ranging from orange juice to ribena, selected glasses clinking together once everyone had gotten a refreshment, “To Daniel!”

Knocking back several drinks the night seemed bearable for once since the light if his life had burned out, the crowd of company keeping him afloat as an overdue warmth settled over him. Not knowing who it was that escorted him to bed slender fingers wrapped around the person's wrist in a half-heartedly attempt to get them to stay, “Please…”

“I'll check on you in the morning,” Jack told him gently, turning around when a way toward the door was found, “We'll be in the guest room if you need anything.”

Limbs loosened by the copious amounts of alcohol consumed kept a usual light sleeper in the same position for most of the night, the covers only slightly crumpled from him rolling over onto the side that had been unoccupied while his partner became a resident in the care unit. Stomaching the ability to remove himself from the spot a disheveled white button down was shed like snakeskin left at the bottom of the an enclosure as a bright pink shirt with a star in the center replaced the formal wear, a pair of black plaid pyjama bottoms masking skinny legs instead.

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya laddies!” he was greeted with a boisterous bolt if energy as the cause of it was last to emerge into the sitting room.

“Seriously?”

“Eh, couldn't resist,” Seán stated matter-of-factly, “You know you love it, Markimoo.”

“Hush, or someone will revive our long-dead ship name. You know how it was back then.”

“Fellas, please, you know it wouldn't be complete without me!” Felix interjected from where he sat with his fiancee before turning his attention to another, “Did you sleep alright, Phil?”

“For once. It's a wonder what you miss when you've been sleeping in a recliner most nights.”

“What a mess your back must be!”

“I got used to it after two weeks… Still took quite a toll on me.”

Awkward silence had always been a specialty among him and Dan, yet they had always been able to manage it around their closest companions until recently; luckily the inevitable embarrassment was intercepted by sickeningly sweet scents wafting from the dining room, attention shifted to finding out the cause, “What's all this?”

“Gifts from the Glimp Glop nebula,” PJ responded without a hitch as a swift wink, “The ambassador owed me a couple of favors.”

“Did human or alien eggs go into this dish?”

“Either way you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.”

Taking the whimsical Creator’s word for it the group gathered around at various mismatching plates that held stacks of French toast topped with raspberries surrounded by poached eggs and slices of thick, brown sugar glazed ham while similar uncoordinated mugs of hot tea orbited the dish.

Quiet conversation came and went between bites of the mouth-waterung cuisine, Phil mostly listening to everyone with a certain fondness he used to be comfortable with sharing that was now replaced by guilt. Should he even be celebrating like this so soon after the wake? After a long, quiet conflict with himself it had been decided but for now he could allow himself to feel an ounce of something else other than complete borrow the matter how hard that may be 

Not long after it seemed that a pile of dishes were already taking care of and suitcases were triple checked to make sure that no item would be left behind on their separate ways home, the widow once again coming to terms with being parted. of course he could not kidnap his colleagues and forth them to stay even longer, but that did not stop the thought from crossing his mind while helping friends gather wayward belongings and pack luggage into rental cars, bidding them all with a pitiful attempt at hiding how afraid he was for the coming days.

“Don't be a stranger now, okay?” Marzia asked after sharing in a long hug, “if you need anything at all, Felix and I will be available.”

“I couldn't ask that of you, what about the pups?”

“Well, will just have to bring them along!”

“What better therapy, am I right?” the Swedish born interjected with a chortle, “I'm pretty sure Maya misses you more than us.”

Promises need to keep in touch Philip watched from the pavement as each vehicle pulled away, barely able to make himself leave where he stood even when none of them to be seen anymore. Faced with the burden of returning to a silent home there was barely any strength left after crossing the threshold, a tired sigh escaping even though he had barely been awake an hour.

Not long into the day was it that he received the call from his technical mother-in-law requesting help in going through what belongings were left at the family home. Without a second thought he immediately agreed and hopped aboard the next bus over to the Howell residence, ignoring his still shaking fingers in favor of taking on the responsibility that came with moving forward even if that meant being partner with Adrian. The resemblence was undeniable even as far as siblings went and no matter how hard Phil tried to ignore an inner voice his heart twisted with yearning.

“Sometimes… you sound just like him.”

“You know I'm not him, right?” 

“Do not make me realize you aren't the one who died…”

“I have to though!” the younger one exclaimed suddenly with tears rushing down his face, “as much as I miss Dan we can't keep lying to ourselves, you can't keep clinging onto hope that he'll return!”

Taken aback by the outburst the further withdrawn he became as memories kept resurfacing with every other object he came across. Hit by a sudden burst of nostalgia at finding a VHS tapes he felt a break was well earned, for his curiosity would not leave until he knew what had been recorded especially as the answer was right at his fingertips.

The man in the video seemed so distant since he was in between keeping a fringe and letting natural curly hair be seen by the rest of the world, a half-smile faltering as he made eye contact with a slightly shaky camera. The disease he had been cursed with stripped away those features that captivated him from the moment they had met, a familiar stranger visiting him from before he fell terminally ill.

“Phil, I need you to live for _both_ of us,” his partner gave with an unlikely fierceness unknown until this moment, “Every moment you spend loving yourself? That's me loving you from wherever I am.”

“Danny…”

“I was ready to die if that wasn't apparent from my off-handed comments , but I wasn't ready for us to be separated. Please don't give in to anything irrational, I'm still right beside you.”

Bringing peace to worlds that have been decimated by tragedy was a next to impossible feat that no one could do alone, yet a directional wind was there to gently caress half-mast sails. The storm was far from settling over the horizon although a course had already set in motion towards what little light parted the wooly wall of clouds.

 

 

 

 

 

“


End file.
